


Untame my mouth

by justhockey



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Insecure Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Lack of Communication, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Upset Evan "Buck" Buckley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:27:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29253693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhockey/pseuds/justhockey
Summary: Eddie knows that the baggage he drags along behind him is heavy. He thinks that if every time he got hurt, it left a scar on his skin - not just his heart - that he would be unrecognisable by now.But Buck has always seen him; he’s seen the scared, and the ugly, and the angry. He’s seen the bruised, and the broken, and the healing. And he’s stayed for every second of it, never once considered walking away, not even when Eddie deserved it.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 435





	Untame my mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Yours_ by Ella Henderson.

Eddie isn’t _late_ for work, exactly, he’s just. Not as on time as he usually is. But it’s absolutely not his fault, it’s Christopher’s, and he’s not above blaming his nine year old to get out of cleaning duty if that’s what it takes. 

So he’s rushing to the locker room, desperate to make up some lost time and dodge Bobby’s disappointed look, and maybe even make it upstairs before all the coffee is gone. 

He sees Buck and Chim first, but when he hears them talking he pauses. They’re just chatting as usual, except for how the conversation sounds maybe a little more serious than it normally would, and for a second Eddie worries about Maddie. But then Buck laughs, and it’s not his usual laugh, not bright and loud and _Buck,_ no this one sounds almost sad. 

It makes Eddie stop, and he’s not one for eavesdropping or gossip - which is what most of the station seem to thrive off - but he just wants to check. Because he and Buck are better at talking now, about saying what they mean instead of what they think the other person wants to hear. But he also knows that Buck doesn’t ever like to burden people, especially not Eddie. And they can’t see him from where he’s standing, just out of view from their position in the locker room. 

So, he listens. And it doesn’t take long before he really, _really_ wishes he hadn’t. 

“You could just tell him,” Chim says. 

Buck scoffs, and Eddie can practically hear his eyes rolling back in his head. 

“Oh yeah, great idea, Einstein,” Buck replies, voice laced with sarcasm. 

“I’m just saying,” Chim argues back, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

There’s silence for a moment, and Eddie doesn’t need to see Buck’s face to know exactly the look he’s giving Chim right about now. He’s knows Buck too well, knows that he’s wearing his best are-you-actually-this-stupid look. But if Eddie knows anything about Chim, then yes, yes he _is_ that stupid. 

“Literally _everything,_ Chimney. Every single bad thing could happen.”

Eddie suddenly feels uncomfortable with the eavesdropping. This is clearly a big deal to Buck, something personal that he’s sharing with Chim and no one else. (Eddie tries not to let that bother him, that Buck is sharing his problems with someone else when Eddie is supposed to be his best friend). (It doesn’t work). 

So he’s just about to move, to walk into their line of sight so they know he’s there, and can either choose to continue the conversation or stop it. But - 

“If I tell Eddie I’m in love with him, I’ll lose him _and_ Chris. I can’t risk that.”

Eddie can’t breathe. It’s like all of the oxygen has been pulled from his lungs, the room, the whole damn planet. The words are ringing in his head like a five-alarm, _’I’m in love with him, I’m in love with him, I’m in love with him’,_ and suddenly his veins feels like they’re filled with lead. 

He can’t move, can’t even _think,_ and he’s still glued in place when Buck and Chim turn the corner and see him standing there. 

When Buck’s eyes fall on Eddie, he freezes. He can see the expression that Eddie knows he’s wearing, and all the blood drains from Buck’s face. He looks white as a ghost, and as paper-thin as one too - like if Eddie were to reach out and touch, Buck would disappear like a phantom. It’s obvious that Eddie knows, and that _Buck_ knows that Eddie knows, and Chim - well. Eddie doesn’t know where he disappeared to, he can’t seem to look away from Buck for a single second. 

Buck clears his throat. “How much of that did you hear?”

His voice isn’t shaking like Eddie excepted, like his own voice would be if the roles were reversed. No, it’s hollow. Completely devoid of any intonation, or emotion, or _anything,_ and that’s what finally pulls Eddie out of his trance. 

He takes in a breath that sounds more like a gasp, and he doesn’t miss the way Buck flinches at it. 

“Enough,” is all Eddie has the strength to say. 

Something flickers across Buck’s face, but it’s so fleeting that Eddie doesn’t have the chance to make sense of it before Buck is a blank slate again. It feels like a kick in the teeth to see Buck, who normally wears his heart on his sleeve, be completely emotionless. 

“Right,” Buck says. Then, “Sorry.”

And Eddie wants to say something back, but he just doesn’t know how to. He doesn’t know how to deal with this at 8am, after his kid woke up screaming from another nightmare about his mom dying, and when Eddie feels so fragile that he might crack if he dares open his mouth. 

He wants to, so badly his jaw aches from clenching it, but he just - can’t. 

And then they’re saved by the bell. 

They instantly switch into work mode, because they’re professionals and this is what they do, what they’re trained to do - put all emotions, all personal feelings aside, and do their damn jobs. And Eddie can do that, it’s safe - he’s been hiding behind his job long before Buck and the 118 were a part of his life. 

But he knows that this won’t last, that they’ll deal with the emergency only to come face to face with their own again. He knows that they probably can’t run from this forever, but he’s damn sure willing to try.

**—————**

Buck takes over every room he enters - exudes so much warmth and brightness that he fills every crack until the room feels like it’s bursting at the seams. Seeing him like this, quiet and withdrawn like he’s trying to make himself small, take up less space, it wrecks Eddie. 

Especially knowing he’s the cause of it. 

Because he didn’t say anything after the call, or the one after, or even on the next shift. And before he knows it it’s been a whole week, even though Eddie still feels frozen, like he hasn’t moved from that very spot he was standing in when everything changed. 

He’s been getting heavy looks from the team all shift, like they know Eddie is the one responsible for this new, broken down version of Buck. And he knows that Buck wouldn’t have bad-mouthed him - not even if he deserved it - so Eddie is clearly doing a shitty job at pretending everything is okay, too. 

It’s just - he doesn’t even know how to _touch_ this. Absolutely anything would be better than how he’s currently handling it, he’s not stupid enough to think otherwise. But he has no idea what he would even say to Buck, how they could even begin to address all of this. 

Because Eddie doesn’t ever want to lie to Buck again, not after the whole street fighting thing almost ruined them. But he doesn’t know how to look Buck in the eye and be honest with him - he _can’t._ So his options are lie to him, or ignore him, and both of them are a lose-lose scenario, both of them result in Buck hurting and Eddie being the cause of it. 

He feels sick with guilt, and everyone can tell something is off. Christopher, who hugs him harder every time he sees him, like he’s trying to hold Eddie together. And Carla, who gently pats his cheek but doesn’t say a word. And his Abuela, who’s delivered tamales, and tacos, and cinnamon cookies to his house on three separate occasions, like that will somehow fix whatever is wrong. 

But the only person who can fix this is Eddie, and he’s too much of a coward - has always ran from everything good in his life, because he’s too afraid to screw it up. 

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Hen says quietly. 

They’re all lounging around, waiting for the next emergency they need to run to. Except for Buck, who’s cleaning the truck for the second time this shift, just so he doesn’t have to be close to Eddie. 

“It’s worse than when Abby left,” Bobby agrees. 

And Eddie can’t look up, because he knows the comments are aimed at him, like some misguided attempt at getting him to fix this. 

“Maddie doesn’t know what to do,” Chim says. 

“He won’t talk to anyone about it, it’s not like there’s much we _can_ do,” Hen adds.

And Eddie is glad that Chimney hasn’t spilled what he knows, but hearing the speculation all becomes too much for him, so quickly that he doesn’t have time to restrain himself before he’s standing up and throwing his arms in the air. 

“He’s a grown man, you don’t have to baby him all the time,” he says, so loud that even Buck looks up from across the room. 

He storms off before they have the chance to say anything else to him, because he doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t need to be told that he’s acting like a dick, that this whole thing is his fucking fault in the first place so he has no right to be mad about it. He already _knows_ all of that, and the guilt of it weighs like a rock in his chest, so heavy he can barely breathe past it. 

He winds up in the gym, because it’s the only place where no one else is right now, and he can’t stand the looks. He doesn’t even bother to tape or glove his hands, he just starts swinging at the punching bag like it personally ruined his life. 

Eddie hates how good it feels to hit something, to release all of the anger that’s been building up inside of him since that moment he found out. Or maybe even before then, he can’t quite tell. He just knows that this feels like such a relief, and it reminds him exactly why he took to street fighting in the first place. 

Except the punching bag doesn’t hit back, and sometimes that was the best part of it all. The way he always felt so much better after the harder fights, where he took one too many punches before he finally put an end to it. The therapist he’s been seeing called it a form of self harm, and maybe they were right. Eddie was just punishing himself for all the times he’d fucked up. 

When he hears footsteps behind him, he half hopes it’s Buck come to sock him in the jaw like he deserves. Maybe that would finally settle the thrum of energy that’s been crackling underneath his skin. 

“I thought you’d know better,” Bobby says. 

Eddie doesn’t stop punching though, doesn’t even acknowledge Bobby’s presence until his captain walks in front of him and grabs onto the bag. Eddie _does_ stop then, doesn’t want to risk hurting Bobby with a badly placed hit. He still won’t look him in the eyes, though. 

“What do you mean?” Eddie finally asks. 

“You’re used to fighting, you know you need to tape up,” Bobby explains, but there’s no judgement in his comments. 

Eddie shrugs his shoulders, then pushes his hair back and finally looks at Bobby. 

He’s not sure what he was expecting - anger, probably, Buck is basically his kid after all - but Bobby is just smiling sadly at him. It looks like pity, and Eddie absolutely doesn’t need any of that, but he’s too out of breath to argue. 

“Eddie, listen-“

“I don’t wanna talk about it, cap,” Eddie interrupts. 

Bobby smiles again. “Yeah, I know. But don’t you think you should?”

And yeah, of course he should. But - 

“Nope.”

He’s being rude, and he’s never spoken to a superior like this in his life, but he just can’t quiet the ball of frustration that’s just building in his chest. He can’t fucking talk about it, and if Bobby makes him try then Eddie might just break. 

“I don’t know what’s happened between you two, but you need to fix it.”

“It doesn’t affect our work,” Eddie justifies. 

And it’s true, they still work seamlessly together because they both know how to act like adults. Most of the time. And as long as it doesn’t affect what they do on the job, Eddie doesn’t think it should concern their boss at all. 

(He knows he’s being an asshole, knows that Bobby is just trying to talk to him because he cares. But if Eddie lets himself feel now, he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop.)

“No, it doesn’t,” Bobby agrees. “But you’re both hurting right now, and I’m pretty sure you’re the only people who can make each other feel better.”

It’s like a punch in the gut, to hear it from someone else that Buck is hurting. Because Eddie knows he’s the cause of it, and he also knows the last thing he ever wants to do to Buck is hurt him. He just - he _can’t._

“Thanks for the advice, cap,” Eddie says, then walks away without any plans to take it on board. 

It’s later, long after their shift is over and Christopher is tucked safely in bed, that Eddie finally lets himself just think. 

About Buck, and that moment when everything changed, and every single moment they’ve shared before and after that one. He hadn’t let himself before, because everything just felt too big and too scary to deal with. But now it’s almost worse trying to push it down, trying to ignore everything that’s clawing at the insides of his chest just trying to get free. 

_God._ Eddie loves him so much that he can taste it in the back of his throat, he can feel it in every cell in his body, like there isn’t a single part of him that hasn’t been touched by Buck. 

It feels like the biggest thing in the world, this love that’s so precious he’s too afraid to even let himself look at it in case it breaks right in front of his eyes. And that’s the problem, right? Eddie is just so _scared._

He knows what he feels like to lose the person he’s in love with - to have them walk away or be stolen from him. He knows how it feels to hold Christopher in his arms as he sobs over the loss of his mom, and how much it hurts to break down because it feels like his heart has been ripped from his chest. 

And he just - he doesn’t know if he can do that ever again. 

Because other than Christopher, Buck is his biggest love. He feels it so entirely, and with so much certainty that he knows he’ll never love anyone else, not like this. And it’s because of that exact reason that he can’t bear to lose him - he can’t open his heart, let Buck into his and Christopher’s life any more than he already is, because losing him would destroy them both. 

He’s knows it’s cowardly, that he’s turning his back on something beautiful because of something that _might_ happen, but Eddie feels like he’s forgotten how to be brave. 

And it doesn’t make sense, because his own fears are making him lose Buck anyway, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. All he does know is that if he doesn’t do something fast, then he won’t get to keep Buck in his life in any capacity.

“Dad?”

Christopher’s voice is loud in the silence of the house, and Eddie immediately turns round to look for his son. He’s walking towards him, rubbing sleepily at his eyes, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to open his arms and let Chris climb into them. 

“Did you have a nightmare bud?” Eddie asks, rubbing Chris’ back soothingly. 

Chris shakes his head. “No, just couldn’t sleep.”

“Me too, kid,” Eddie says, letting his head rest on top of Christopher’s. 

It’s quiet for a few moments, both of them too tired to really be awake at this hour, but neither of them wanting to move just yet. Then Christopher’s hand is on Eddie’s cheek, gently brushing it and watching his dad curiously. 

“Why are you sad?”

The question makes Eddie’s breath catch in his throat. He hates that Christopher has picked up on his emotions - it feels like just another way that he’s failing him. 

“Is it because Bucky hasn’t been coming over?” Chris continues before Eddie can even reply. 

Of course his son knows, because he’s all the best parts of Eddie, and Shannon, and Buck too. His heart is big, and open, and unafraid, and Eddie wishes he could be more like his little boy. 

“Buck didn’t do anything wrong, Chris,” Eddie explains, because he doesn’t want him thinking any of this is Buck’s fault. 

“I know,” Chris replies. “Buck is too kind to make anyone sad on purpose.”

He’s right, and Eddie wishes he wasn’t, because that makes what he’s doing to Buck so much worse. All he needed to do was tell Buck that how he felt was okay, but Eddie didn’t feel the same. It would be a lie, but at least they would be okay. He just knows that if he opened his mouth and tried to talk to Buck, all of it would come pouring out in a way that he could never take back. 

“Yeah, he is,” Eddie says, whispering so his voice doesn’t crack. 

“Don’t worry, dad, Bucky isn’t going anywhere, he loves us too much.”

It sounds so simple when Christopher says it - so obvious and easy, like _of course_ Buck won’t ever leave them, he’s family. And as Eddie tucks Chris back into bed, he thinks that maybe his son is right. Maybe if Christopher can trust that Buck won’t walk away, Eddie should try as well.

**—————**

They get called to an abandoned factory that’s caught on fire, and it’s supposed to be an easy job because there’s no one inside they need to rescue. They just need to get the hoses on it and get the flames under control, and it’ll all be fine. 

But then they arrive at the scene and the building is an inferno, the factory - used for storing timber - is completely engulfed in flames. And when two homeless people come stumbling out, gasping for breath and saying that there are more people inside, shit just gets a hell of a lot more complicated. 

It’s him and Buck that Bobby sends in, and Buck gives him a brief nod before they make their way inside. 

“We’ve got this.”

“We’ve got this,” Eddie repeats.

He holds his fist out and Buck bumps it, then they run towards the fire. 

But the smoke is too thick and he’s lost Buck within minutes. Eddie is stumbling around half blind, squinting to try and see as he calls out for the other people in the building. He finds two pretty quickly, drags them to the entrance and shoves them into Hen and Chim’s waiting arms before rushing back inside. But he has no idea how many are inside, or if Buck managed to get any out, or - fuck, he doesn’t even know if Buck’s okay. 

He has to be, though, and Eddie can’t let his mind go there when he’s got a job to do and people are counting on him. 

So he takes a breath to steady himself, then he keeps going. He searches the entire bottom floor, and when he finds that the stairs up to the next floor are already ravaged by the fire, he knows it’s time to get out. He doesn’t see Buck once, but he won’t let that sick feeling take root in his stomach, at least not until he knows anything for certain. 

When he finally makes it back outside, he’s barely got his helmet and mask off before something hits him square in the chest, solid but trembling as they clutch desperately at Eddie. 

“Jesus fucking _Christ,_ Diaz,” Buck is yelling into his ear. “Don’t you ever fucking do that to me again!”

And Eddie isn’t entirely sure what he’s done wrong, but he wraps his arms around Buck anyway because he’s powerless not to. Buck sags into him, lets his forehead drop onto Eddie’s shoulder as he pants like he can’t catch his breath. 

“I don’t - Buck, I’m _fine,_ what’s wrong?” He asks.

Because nothing went wrong inside, Eddie can see the other station starting to get the blaze under control, and both of them are unharmed, so he has no idea what’s wrong. 

Buck pulls back then, and Eddie’s arms fall away as Buck shoves him in the chest. 

“We fucking told you to get out! You didn’t answer Bobby, you didn’t answer _me,_ ” he says, voice cracking. 

Eddie reaches up for his radio to test that it’s still working, but when he looks down it’s gone. He’s not sure how, figures he must have caught it on something that was sturdy enough to pull it off, but that explains the reaction - explains the fear in Buck’s eyes and his voice. 

“Buck, it’s - look, okay, I lost my radio,” Eddie says, gesturing to where it should be strapped to his turn-out gear. “I didn’t even realise, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Buck’s hands are shaking as he rubs them over his face, and Eddie wants to reach out for him again but he’s not sure it would be welcome. It was one thing to hold him in the heat of the moment, when Buck clearly thought that Eddie was hurt or worse, but it would be another thing entirely now, when Buck is so rightfully mad at Eddie that he’s barely spoken to him in a week. 

So he doesn’t reach out, he just watches instead, as they finish up at the scene and pack away, and as they drive back to the station in silence. He watches the way Buck’s body is still trembling even though he knows Eddie is okay, he sees his red eyes and the tear tracks through the dirt on his cheeks. He sees the way Buck keeps glancing at him, like he needs to check he’s still there. 

But most of all, he sees the love Buck feels for him. Because now he knows - really, _really_ knows - it’s impossible to miss it. 

It’s in Buck’s eyes every time they fall on Eddie, it’s the way they move around each other so easily - on the job, at the station, at home. It’s in the way that Buck laughs at Eddie’s terrible jokes, the way he drops everything when Christopher needs him, and the way he trusted Eddie with the truth about his parents, and his childhood, and his trauma. 

It seeps out of him like there’s so much of it he can’t possibly keep it inside. And Eddie has no idea how he didn’t see it before, because it’s in everything Buck says and does. 

And suddenly he doesn’t know why he’s running from it, why he’s afraid of a love that’s so big, and bright, and beautiful. Everything with Buck is good, because _Buck_ is good, and the realisation almost sends Eddie to his knees. 

He doesn’t even know how he makes it through the rest of his shift - Bobby, Chim, and Hen probably think he’s turned into a ghost. But by the time it’s over he’s jumping in his truck and following Buck back to his apartment. 

And he’s afraid, as he stands at Buck’s with his fist out ready to knock. Because he could be too late - Buck could slam the door in his face and Eddie would absolutely deserve it. But he knows that it’s time to stop running and start fighting, so he holds his breath and knocks. 

When Buck opens the door his face is so open and honest that Eddie can see how exhausted he is, how much today has shaken him to his very core. But then Buck realises it’s Eddie standing there, and his face instantly closes off, and it hurts something spectacular, because Eddie has always been the one person Buck felt like he could be vulnerable in front of. If he’s ruined that beyond repair, Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forgive himself. 

“Hi,” Eddie says, breathless for no other reason than seeing Buck’s face. “Can we talk?”

Buck steps back so Eddie can walk inside, and then he shuts the door behind them. It’s like he can’t bring himself to face Eddie though, because it feels like a lifetime before Buck turns away from the door to face him. And when Eddie sees his face again, a mask of complete indifference, he almost starts to cry. 

“I’m sorry, about earlier.”

The apology takes Eddie by surprise, because he hadn’t expected it and he certainly hasn’t done anything to deserve it. 

“What do you mean? Why are you apologising?” Eddie asks. 

He hates the way Buck shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, and crosses his arms like they’ll form a barrier between them. He can’t look Eddie in the eye, he keeps them firmly on the floor as he leans back against the kitchen counters. 

“I shouldn’t have done - _that,_ ” Buck says. “Shouldn’t have hugged you, I know it bothers you now.”

“Wait, why would it bother me, Buck?”

Buck scrunches his eyes closed for a second as he keeps his arms across his chest, but brings a hand up to swipe over his face. It’s like this conversation is physically hurting him, but Eddie needs to know what he means. 

“Look, I get it okay? I know that my, y’know, feelings for you, make you uncomfortable,” Buck says, stumbling over his words. “I shouldn’t have hugged you like that, I’m sorry. I just - I thought you were gone. It won’t happen again.”

And like, he knows that Buck came to a logical conclusion - Eddie found out Buck was in love with him so he completely ghosted him, ignored Buck when he tried to talk at work, and didn’t answer his texts or calls. So. It makes sense. But it still knocks Eddie sideways when he hears it said out loud, because it’s the furthest thing from the truth and Eddie hates that he’s done this to Buck. 

“Buck, god, _no,_ that’s. That’s not,” he says, doesn’t even know how to finish the sentence without revealing how awful he’s been. 

“It’s fine, Eddie. Honestly,” Buck says. 

The worst part is, Eddie knows Buck means it. His heart is so big and understanding that if Eddie never wanted to talk to him again, Buck wouldn’t push, wouldn’t demand an explanation, he’d probably just blame himself. 

“No, Buck, listen. It’s - I’m not mad that you hugged me,” he says, but it’s only half of the truth. “And your feelings, they don’t make me uncomfortable.”

Buck scoffs then, and Eddie can’t blame him because his behaviour recently hasn’t reflected the words that he’s saying right now. 

“Okay, maybe they did a little bit,” he says, and Buck nods like he knew he was right. “But not in the way that you’re thinking.”

It takes a second, but Buck finally looks up from the floor and at Eddie. His eyes are wide and watery, and Eddie just wants to fold him into his arms and never let go. He wants to go back in time and never listen in on that conversation, or react differently to it, or say something sooner. But he can’t do that, so he has to make things right now. 

“I wasn’t expecting it, Buck. I had no idea that you felt that way about me, and when I heard it I just - I was scared.”

“I never _expected_ anything from you,” Buck says. “I didn’t even want you to find out, it’s not like I was gonna try and make a move.” 

“I know, I just. You love so _big,_ Buck. And I couldn’t believe you could feel that way for me, and then once I did, I could see in everything you did, and I was just so afraid,” Eddie tells him. 

It feels like every part of his body is protesting at being so vulnerable in front of someone else, but it’s worth it when Buck’s arms fall from across his chest and he tucks them into his pockets instead. It’s only a tiny movement, but it shows that Buck is opening up - it shows that he’s willing to listen even though Eddie doesn’t deserve it. 

“Like I said, I was never expecting anything from you. Being your friend was always enough for me, Eddie, I didn’t want more.” 

“But I did,” Eddie says. “I wanted more.”

And then it’s out there, and he can’t take it back, but Eddie doesn’t want to. Not anymore. Because Buck deserves the truth, even if it eventually ruins both of them. 

“What?”

“I wanted more, I’ve _always_ wanted more with you, Buck. I’m so in love with you that I can’t even think sometimes,” Eddie confesses. 

He can’t read the expression on Buck’s face as he stands up straight, but that might just be because Eddie’s eyes are blurred with unshed tears. Part of him wants to grab all the words he’s just spoken and shove them back in his mouth, keep them locked behind his teeth where the only person they can hurt is himself. But a bigger part of himself makes him look Buck in his shining blue eyes, and refuse to run away. 

“I don’t - I mean. Are you serious?” Buck asks. 

Eddie hates the uncertainty in his voice, hates himself for making Buck ever doubt how much he means to Eddie. 

“Yeah, I’m serious. I’m in love with you.”

“Then _why,_ Eddie? Why wouldn’t you talk to me? It’s like you were still around, but you’d disappeared on me,” Buck says, and he’s crying now. “I thought you hated me. Why couldn’t you just be honest?”

“Because I was scared,” Eddie admits. 

Buck laughs as he walks towards Eddie. He doesn’t touch him, just stops right in front of Eddie’s face, and it takes everything in Eddie not to close the distance and kiss him. 

“God, we’re all scared Eddie! Life is terrifying, and so is our job, and fucking _love,_ but it doesn’t mean you can stop living,” Buck says, and his hands are shaking but his voice is steady. 

“It’s not just me that I have to think about, though, it’s Christopher too. I can’t just do whatever I want, because he always has to come first.”

“What, you think I don’t know that? I adore Chris, I would never do anything to hurt him.”

“No, no I _know_ that Buck,” Eddie rushes to correct. “It’s just, he’s already lost his mom. _Twice._ I just don’t want to put him in the position where he could lose another parent. And I don’t want to lose someone else that I love.”

It’s in that moment that Buck’s face softens, that he reaches out a hand and rests it on Eddie’s forearm. It’s the tiniest point of contact, but it makes Eddie’s whole body sigh in relief - like it’s been missing Buck’s touch for the past week, and now it’ll take whatever it can get. _Eddie_ will take whatever he can get. 

“I know what it feels like to get left behind, Eddie, I know how much it hurts. But I will never do that to you and Christopher, not as long as I have a choice,” Buck promises. 

“But you might get taken from us,” Eddie says, and he sounds so young and fragile that Buck moves even closer. 

“I know that’s scary to think about. I feel like my heart exists outside of my chest - like every second that I can’t see you, or Christopher, I’m afraid something bad is going to happen,” Buck tells him. “But we can’t control what happens to us, we can only control how we respond to it. And I’m here, right now, and I love you, and I want to be with you.”

Eddie knows that the baggage he drags along behind him is heavy. He thinks that if every time he got hurt, it left a scar on his skin - not just his heart - that he would be unrecognisable by now. But Buck has always seen him; he’s seen the scared, and the ugly, and the angry. He’s seen the bruised, and the broken, and the healing. And he’s stayed for every second of it, never once considered walking away, not even when Eddie deserved it. 

And Eddie doesn’t know what to do with a love like that, doesn’t think he can trust himself to hold it in his hands and not break it, not poison it with something ugly. Because he’s been loved before, but always with conditions and expectations - like one wrong move could end it all. 

Buck is different. Because this thing that he’s offering Eddie, that he’s giving to him so freely - there are no requirements or restrictions. It’s just there, waiting. Eddie’s to take if only he could be brave enough to reach out. 

“Okay,” he whispers. 

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie says again. 

Then he’s holding Buck’s face in his hands and kissing him. And his heart is racing so fast he thinks it might explode, and he knows that in this moment, he’s changed. That he’ll never be able to go back to a time before this, because it feels like if he stops kissing Buck then he’ll die. 

Buck’s hands are on his hips, and his shoulders, and his face - they pull Eddie closer, tug at his hair, brush at the corner of his mouth even as they kiss. And none of it feels like enough, he wants more, always so much more. He wants to crawl into the spaces between Buck’s ribs and make a home for himself there, right next to his heart. 

He’s so, entirely surrounded by Buck, and he’s never in his life felt safer than in this moment. 

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs against his lips. “Estoy enamorado de ti, Evan.” 

“I love you, too,” Buck promises. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Eddie believes him. 

He knows Buck can’t promise that nothing bad will ever happen to him, just like Eddie can’t promise the same. But he loves Eddie enough to stay, and that’s all Eddie could ever ask for. 

“I guess that therapy is paying off, huh?” Eddie says. 

Then they’re laughing, and holding each other, and suddenly everything in the world feels possible with Buck by his side. 

“How about we go steal Chris from Abuela and have a sleepover?” Buck suggests. 

And Eddie falls in love with him all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally can’t stop I’m so sorry


End file.
